


Dance With Me

by Owl_Postmaster, sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M, Ministry of Magic Winter Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owl_Postmaster/pseuds/Owl_Postmaster, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: Ron thinks Harry wants to shag Draco, Hermione thinks Harry needs to stop staring and Draco has decided to listen to Pansy. All at the same time.





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pygmy Puff (ppuff)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ppuff/gifts).



> All my love to the mods of the H/D Owlpost Fest for continued patience with my insane life. More love to B for support and speedy beta work. Happy holidays, pygmy-puffy – I hope you enjoy it.

The chandeliers in the Ministry grand ballroom dimmed and the dozens of Christmas trees around the border of the room twinkled with fairy lights. Harry looked around the festively decorated space, barely repressing a sigh. Another boring Ministry holiday party. He was just wondering exactly how long he'd have to endure the monotony when a flash of blond hair caught his eye.

Harry shifted just enough in his chair that he was able to see Draco Malfoy sitting across the room with Pansy Parkinson. Harry supressed a chuckle when Parkinson's well-placed elbow caused Malfoy to sit up with a start. It looked as if Harry wasn't the only one nearly bored to death. 

"Harry!" Hermione hissed into his ear. 

Harry jumped and turned to face his best friend. "What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "For Merlin's sake, just go ask him to dance."

"Ask who?" Harry replied, in a feeble attempt at ignorance. 

"Who indeed," she said with a laugh. "You've been staring at Malfoy since he sat down fifteen minutes ago."

"I'm, uh… just wondering why he's here. I mean, isn't he supposed to be in Germany or Istanbul studying potions?"

"Istanbul? Seriously?" Hermione shook her head. "As if you don't know he's been in Switzerland for the last three years."

Harry shrugged. It's not like he was going to admit that he'd been following Malfoy's career since he left. Or that he knew the man's been in London for eleven days and about four hours, give or take an hour. "I may have heard a thing or two around the Ministry."

Ron snorted out a laugh. " _May_ have? Mate, it's all you've been talking about for the last two weeks!" He leaned across the table towards Hermione. "Bit like sixth year all over again, it's been. And just as annoying."

Hermione gave Harry a smug look. "Just go ask him to dance or stop staring."

Harry slumped in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. "'M not staring."

"Mate," Ron interjected. "You're staring. In fact, too bad Malfoy's not paying any attention. I'm pretty sure that look you're giving him doesn't so much say I want to dance as it's saying 'Id really like to toss you on the table and have you for dessert.'"

"Ron!" Harry and Hermione said in unison. 

"Just sayin'," Ron shrugged. 

Harry buried his face in his arms on the table. Maybe if he wished it really hard, he'd be able to break through the Ministry anti-Apparation wards and simply go home.

He was just about to raise his head when someone spoke. "Taking a kip, is he?" A very familiar voice drawled at his side. Harry squeezed his eyes tight and prayed he was hallucinating. He spared a quick glance with one eye and groaned. No such luck.

Ron glanced up at Malfoy and laughed. "Unless he's wanking under the table."

Harry whimpered and Draco's laugh became a cough. 

"Oh for the love of Mordred," Hermione scolded. "How old are you, Ronald?"

Harry lifted his head and saw Ron's smirk and Hermione's glare. He was looking everywhere, except at Malfoy. 

Hermione stood. "I want to dance," she announced, holding out a hand to Ron. 

His brow furrowed. "With me?"

"Yes, with you." She pulled him from the chair. "Now."

Draco didn't hold back his laugh this time. He chuckled and then sat in Hermione's vacated seat. "Is this okay?" he asked Harry. 

Harry struggled to speak but ended up simply nodding. 

They sat in silence for what felt like hours to Harry. He finally blurted out, "So how was Switzerland?" Then considered crawling under the table, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath instead. When he opened his eyes, Draco was smiling at him. 

"Very good," he answered.

Time dragged again. Harry drummed his fingers on the table. "Err, so you're a Potions Master now? How's that going?" Idiot, bloody fucking idiot, he told himself. 

Draco nodded. "Yes, fully certified and everything. And it's going quite well. After some consideration, I've decided to work at the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries. I'll be working with the DMLE on potion related cases."

Harry sucked in air. "Brilliant." Was all he could manage, as his brain raced. 

Draco rested an elbow on the table and leaned closer. "Sooo, rumour has it, as in Parkinson and her penchant for gossip, that you've a bit of a thing for me."

Harry threw his head back, groaning. "Christ, wouldn't it be easier if you just hexed me? More fun for you, too."

Draco pursed his lips and nodded, grey eyes sparkling with amusement. "There is that, I suppose." 

"Wanker." Harry shot back, but without any heat behind the word. 

"On occasion, if there isn't another hand available and interested. However... You are, aren't you?" Draco watched him, lips quirked in a smirk that seemed more smile and less snark.

Harry decided there was no help for it, anyway. "Have been, since sixth year."

Draco didn't so much as blink. "Well, then we have at least one thing in common."

They stared at each other for a long time and slowly, Harry started to smile. "Would you like to dance?"

Draco smiled back. "I would. But only if that 'throwing me on the table' option is...well, off the table."

Harry laughed. "Well, here at any rate."

One of those Malfoy brows that used to drive Harry spare arched toward his hairline. "I think that's a good thing. After all, you are Harry Potter, golden boy." He stood, offering his hand while Harry fought back a sliver of irritation at the old nickname. "Oh, don't be like that." Draco grabbed his hand and pulled Harry to his feet, pulling him in close. Their faces were just inches apart. "I have a feeling without these formal robes, you're something special to look at." Draco angled his head as he studied Harry's face. "Everyone else will want you." His voice slid lower, into a sexy whisper. "And I've never been much good at sharing."

Harry stopped in the middle of the dance floor and pulled Draco into his arms. "Perfect, as neither am I."

As he danced slowly around the room, Harry swore he heard several people mutter "About damn time" and frankly, he couldn't have agreed more.

finis

  



End file.
